Title: Thank Me Later
Summary:"Lassiter watched Shawn again as his drinking partner put the rim of the glass to his pursed lips. He wanted more than anything to kiss those moist, shimmering lips flavored with a hint of pineapple and alcohol. He was convinced it tasted better than the vodka. He then admired Shawn's fit, slender body. He would give anything to touch and feel, kiss and lick those…"
Rating:M (Explicit content continued on AO3, Link below)
Pairing:(Top!) Lassiter x Shawn
A/N: Thanks to Airway Static and Sacred Muse for beta. I am not very well versed in English, my first language is Japanese. if you notice a major mistake please feel free to point it out. I don't want such a small matter to ruin the enjoyment out of the story. rest on AO3: ... /works/2722073
Ojoushi, AKA Sngkyu AKA blkstarr.
At the Santa Barbara police station, Shawn Spencer had arrived to retrieve his motorcycle from the pound. He blamed his old man for the incident.
"I know he used some kind of voodoo magic to get rid of my Bikey!" Shawn pouted.
As he walked into the building, he quickly looked around for anyone he knew to help him retrieve his vehicle and noticed Lassiter talking on the phone across the room, sitting as his desk. Shawn thought about asking him to retrieve his precious motorcycle, but decided to dismiss the idea. Shawn looked at Lassiter once more. He was admiring Lassiter's perfect, square jaw and those big, jewel-blue eyes. Anything to occupy his thoughts of the impounded vehicle. The older detective looked as if he had gotten into a heated argument on the phone, fidgeting with an old ring that was blatantly placed on the desk. 'Maybe an argument about his relationship.' Shawn thought. He made a mental note to tease Lassiter of his oh-so-sensitive relationship problems the next time he had a big "psychic" moment whenever their next case may be. He stared into Lassiter's eyes when their gaze met. Quickly, Shawn averted his eyes with a blush.
'Not that his relationship was such a big deal...' Shawn thought. He knew he was lying to himself. Lassiter may be a self-centered jerk and had more pride in his work than he should, Shawn couldn't resist the odd butterflies-in-the-stomach feeling he got interacting with the older detective. He developed feelings that made him feel insecure at times, to the point Shawn would drag his best friend Gus along for some midnight pineapple ice cream snack to wallow in his self-pity. Shawn wanted to confess to Lassiter of his affection towards the older man but kept them to himself instead because of his fear of rejection. Instead, he would carefully confide in his best friend playing out a scenario that he had a thing for some chick he met in a coffee shop and was pseudo serious about her. He wondered if the detective was homophobic. It was a frivolous thing to think about and it was out of character for Shawn Spencer, the amazing psychic, to be moping about intimate relationships especially with another man. A strong, familiar voice acknowledging him snapped him back into reality.
"Shawn!"
He jolted. "...McNab!" Shawn turned around and smiled.
"Seems like I've scared you, sorry. How are you doing today?" McNab smiled, oblivious to Shawn's blushing face. Averting his gaze to check his peripherals, Shawn hoped Lassiter didn't hear the commotion. He hated to bother an already vexed detective.
"Good! Just the usual. How about you? How's that cat?" He referred back to the cat McNab ended up with during the time he played psychic using a cat to catch the killer.
"Wonderful! That cat snuggles with me when I fall asleep on the sofa." McNab sighed in a positive kind of way. "...Oh right I just remembered that I wanted to return your bike." Shuffling through the pile of papers he held in his hands.
Shawn held back his sudden glee with a stern cough. "What? Do you have authorization to do that?"
"Oh no, although I would've done anything to help you. I wouldn't be able to return your bike personally. No, Detective Lassiter requested the order."
Shawn stood there dumbstruck. Of all the people that would return his bike, it was Lassiter. "What? Why would he do that?"
"Beats me. But that's nice of him! I don't think I've seen him so nice before, even towards women. You know with his long history of...maybe I should stop talking now." McNab smiled awkwardly, looking past Shawn's shoulders. "You stay here, I'll go get your bike." McNab turned and left Shawn in thought.
Why would Lassiter, of all people, help him? Shawn felt somewhat conflicted in his feelings. He decided to follow McNab to retrieve his transportation. He turned around quickly hoping to catch up to the officer, only to bump into something firm.
"Ouch!" Shawn stroked his reddening nose for comfort.
"Spencer." Grunted a familiar voice. It was Lassiter, his face expressing a small hint of agitation in that usual, everyday frown.
"...Whoa! I mean...Hey-o, Lassie-o!" Shawn looked up in panic. He had to escape, fast. "...Hey, guess what! I'm going to get Bikey back! McNab is just down at the ol' bike yard fetching it for me. I was just about to leave to meet with him." Shawn grinned, admitting that he sounded silly.
Lassiter looked at Shawn, his expression unchanged. "...Good."
For a moment, Shawn thought he saw some relief in the detective's eyes.
"Yeah...So, I'll see you later!"
"Whatever." Lassiter straightened his slightly wrinkled suit and started off down the hall, in the opposite direction.
"...Lassie!" Shawn called out, on the spur of the moment. "...Thanks for returning my motorcycle..." he flustered; it took all his courage to thank him. 'He isn't exactly easy to thank.' thought Shawn.
"You can thank me later." Lassiter replied as he continued down the hall.
"...Later?" Shawn said quietly to himself, perplexed. He stumbled on his thoughts but dismissed it for the time being, the desire to retrieve his bike winning over.
That night in the psych office, Shawn sat in his office chair contemplating a visit to Lassiter's house. He was curious as to what the grumpy detective meant when he said to thank him later. 'It probably didn't mean anything.' He thought as he over-analyzed the situation but he couldn't sleep on it. As the quiet, gentle night grew long, his phone rang.
"...Hello, psych detective agency, this is the one and only psychic detective, the amazing Shawn Spencer. How can I help you?" Shawn thought he could have added a bit more pizazz and made a mental note number two for the next time.
"I think you should drop the 'amazing' part, Spencer." Lassiter scoffed.
"L...Lassie!...How'd you get the office number? "Shawn flustered.
"You put yourself in the phonebooks, and there aren't many 'psychic agencies' to call." He could hear the fatigue in Lassiter's voice.
"Right...So whaddya need, Lassie pants?" Shawn tried to keep his voice calm but he was too nervous. He looked at the clock. Eleven in the evening; why would Lassiter call him now?
"I told you to thank me later, didn't I? Bring me drinks to my house. A scotch maybe, I don't know. Just come over to my house and bring me a bottle or two." Lassiter replied, his voice unfazed.
"Oh...Uhm sure." Shawn heard the phone click and he proceeded to get ready. Now that he'd gotten his motorcycle back, he could be there in a jiffy yet he felt uneasy. Lassiter never invited him before, why would he do so now? The guy thought of him as a nuisance with his fake yet perfect sense of deduction and attention to detail. He decided he needed a nice walk in the night air to cool his head. It was one in the morning by the time he arrived at Lassiter's house. Shawn brought over two bottles: Scotch whiskey and pineapple vodka. He also brought a liter of lemon-lime soda as a mixer for his vodka. He decided he himself would have a drink to relax when he returned home. Arriving at the detective's home, Shawn took a deep breath and took a step onto the porch. He rang the doorbell once and not a second delay, the door flew open as if Lassiter had been standing by the door the entire time.
"A bit late, aren't you?" Lassiter raised an eyebrow.
Lassiter now wore a casual attire as opposed to his usual sexy formal business suit. A pair of loose grey cotton sweatpants and a fitted, navy-blue cotton jersey shirt. The mixture of grey and black hair tussled informally at a comfortable standard. For the first time, Shawn saw his body frame clearly. It showcased his age, yet he was fit. Shawn admired the toned arm muscles Lassiter had. He would give anything to caress Lassiter's pecs. Shawn mentally kicked himself back into reality.
"Sorry! I wasn't sure what kind of drink to get for you..." Shawn fidgeted, avoiding Lassiter's gaze.
"Where'd you park your motorcycle?" Lassiter surveyed the area.
"I wanted to take a walk, its nice out. Plus, I might get pulled over for possession of alcohol while driving. Bikey might get taken away from me again!" Shawn laughed nervously. 'Lame excuse, never using that one again.' thought Shawn.
"Good point." Lassiter stood still in the doorway.
"So...I got you a bottle of scotch whiskey, that's okay right?" Shawn took the bottle out and handed it to Lassiter.
"Yeah, whatever."
For a moment their fingers touched and Shawn shivered from the sudden sensation. Lassiter's fingertips were warm to the touch.
"Well if you don't need anything else-"
"What's the other bottle?" Lassiter gestured with his head, cutting him off.
"This? This one's mine. I figured I'd get a bottle myself. It's just pineapple vodka." Shawn couldn't help but smile. His favorite fruit really was a pineapple.
"Pineapple?"
"Yeah..." Shawn cleared his throat. Awkward silence followed suit.
"Interesting. I want to try it."
Shawn's eyes grew wide, "Really? I don't think it's strong enough for tonight though..."
"It's fine, I told you to bring a bottle or two. You must be cold." Lassiter subtly motioned Shawn inside.
"I don't wanna bother you Lassie, I know it's late." Shawn hesitated. This whole day had been odd from the start.
"I ask you to bring two bottles of alcohol, and I motion you to come inside that's usually an invitation to have couple drinks with me." Lassiter sighed.
"Oh...right. Thanks." Shawn timidly walked in, kicking off his shoes at the entrance. He felt out of character as he wasn't the usual obnoxious, cheeky self. Then again, Lassiter didn't seem himself either, inviting him over and playing nice. he felt a little awkward.
He followed the detective down the well-lit hallway and into an open kitchen, placing himself behind an island that stood between the two. Shawn leaned against a counter behind him while Lassiter grabbed two glasses from the kitchen cabinet and poured the vodka over the ice cubes that he put in the glass. "I don't have shot glasses or anything." then he looked at the mixer in the bag that was placed on the island. "Did you want this in there?"
"Twenty-five to seventy-five, would you kindly." Shawn chuckled as he watched Lassiter clumsily mix the drinks.
"I don't really mix these fruity drinks." Lassiter handed the glass to Shawn.
"It's alright." He laughed and held the cup with two hands. It wasn't that the drink was warming him up; he was more nervous about the fact he was with Lassiter having drinks together. "Thanks." He felt the need to keep the cup stable to keep himself from dropping it and shattering it into a million pieces. Shawn looked down at the glass and took a tiny sip, smiling. The liquid warmed the back of his throat and he felt warmth on his cheeks. The taste of cool pineapple made the feeling pleasant. He started to play with the rim of the glass from where he took a sip, slowly following the circular shape around a couple times.
"Is it good?" He looked up and saw that Lassiter hadn't touched his scotch whiskey. His arms were crossed, leaning back onto the counter on the opposite side. In fact, Lassiter had been watching Shawn.
"You know I love the taste of pineapple. All the tropical, acid-y yet sweet goodness. It's really good thanks for asking." Shawn grinned.
"Hm."
Shawn felt self-conscious when he noticed a hint of amusement in Lassiter's face. The detective reached for Shawn's glass and sipped when he was given the chance. He found the flavor strangely pleasant. It adamantly reminded him of Shawn. All of the younger man's random pineapple cravings he gets at the police station. From the smoothie to pizza, Shawn never failed to share his joy of the fruit with everyone. Lassiter gave up a small smirk. This morning's incident on the phone hadn't helped his stress level and he wanted Shawn's company for the longest time. It was comfortable having Shawn next to him, sipping drinks together. They rarely sat down together, mostly because of Lassiter's own pride always taking precedence over what he really wanted to do with the younger latter. He caught Shawn gazing into his eyes this morning with his gorgeous hazel eyes and it wasn't the first time either. Keeping track, however creepy it may seem to the unsuspecting audience, he caught Shawn staring at his face about twenty-three times exactly. It didn't include this morning. He paid careful attention to Shawn ever since he playfully sat on the older man's lap during the same week he met the so called "psychic". He hated to admit it was pleasant having a perfectly toned bottom on his lap, especially a young one, on top of his...sensitive areas. He still remembers the slight thrill and shock of the momentary contact they shared before he roughly pushed off the oblivious Shawn Spencer.
Lassiter watched Shawn again as his drinking partner put the rim of the glass to his pursed lips. He wanted more than anything to kiss those moist, shimmering lips flavored with a hint of pineapple and alcohol. He was convinced it tasted better than the vodka. He then admired Shawn's fit, slender body. He would give anything to touch and feel, kiss and lick those…
"Uh...So was this all you needed?"
Lassiter snapped back into reality. "What?" He realized Shawn held an empty glass.
"For the motorcycle...You told me to thank you later." Shawn scratched his head, letting the alcohol make the casual conversation. "I was confused when McNab told me you got my motorcycle out from the pound."
"Oh. I wasn't busy with any reports and I thought it was out of place that your bike got taken because of..what was it..outdated safety sticker? If I recall, you kept your transport in top notch shape, more so than your office." Lassiter snickered as he continued sipping the drink nonchalantly. He stood closer behind the island to cover his half erection, trying hard to keep himself composed.
"I swear it was my old man! He never liked the idea of me owning the motorcycle. He casted some of his voodoo police magic on it. Poor bikey, he's innocent I tell you." Shawn protested.
"'Bikey'? Right. I also find it odd you would name your vehicle like it's your pet."
"Well of course! He's my baby!" Shawn flustered. Yes, it was rather childish of him to name a motorcycle 'Bikey' but it was in his nature to do anything silly. Lassiter knew this in the back of his mind and he found it adorable.
"Whatever. Here." Lassiter poured the whiskey into Shawn's glass.
"I...think one glass of my preferred drink is enough for me." Shawn hesitated handing the full glass to Lassiter.
"You're thanking me, remember? Drink up."
"I don't..."
"Can't you drink anything stronger than vodka?" Lassiter scoffed.
"Of course I can!" Shawn huffed, giving into the pressure. He guzzled half the drink in one go to prove a point. He began to feel pleasantly dizzy.
"Hey! I didn't mean 'drink in one gulp'." Lassiter furrowed his brows.
"I...think I need to sit now." Shawn slowly made his way over to the sofa with his drink. He tried to recover from the sudden transition of drinking a glass of mixed drink into drinking a glass of hard liquor. The amount Lassiter poured into the glass didn't help either. He could feel the heat of the alcohol rising from the pit of his stomach to his face. As he settled down onto the soft comfort of the clean sofa he took another, this time slow, sip of his drink. On the table he noticed a partially opened fancy pink box. Behind the clear window part of the packaging, he saw individually wrapped, pineapple-shaped candies.
"Wow, these are cool! Can I have some?" Without waiting for a reply, Shawn took two, unwrapping them and popping them in his mouth. They tasted of pineapple goodness with a bit of a tickling sensation.
Lassiter walked swiftly into the living room. "Hang on…!" Lassiter protested.
"Where'd you get these?"
"A souvenir from Hawaii. A friend got them but..."
"Oh, it's really sweet. It feels a bit tingly inside my mouth." Shawn felt a bit strange. 'It's probably the alcohol.' he thought.
"How many did you eat?
"Only a couple, don't worry Lassie." Shawn emptied the last bit of his drink, bit the remainder of unmelted candy in his mouth and stood up, feeling perkier than before. "You've got a whole stack." Shawn patted Lassiter's shoulder, and then made his way down the hall. He felt rather strange, panting lightly as his crotch radiated heat. His face grew pink, and reflected, 'I may have underestimated the power of scotch whiskey in one sitting.'
"You don't look well Spencer. Why don't you take a rest?" Lassiter's voice had a hint of panic.
"I should be on my way home. It's getting late." Shawn was just about to open the door when he felt dizzy again. This time, the feeling intensified. Despite everything, Shawn just wanted to get out of here before he did something he would regret. "...Thanks for inviting me over. We should do this more often." Shawn turned to face Lassiter. His knees trembled and grew weak and he would've fallen to the floor hard if it wasn't for Lassiter who steadied him. His touch only added to the sensations and he slowly began to get aroused. The places Lassiter held with his large hands grew hot and his heart raced.
"Ah..." Shawn sharply gasped. "Thanks, Lassie."
Lassiter could only stare at the now flushed Shawn. Shawn panted into Lassiter's chest; he was closer to Lassiter than he thought he was. Lassiter could smell Shawn's hair mixed with cologne and alcohol.
"Funny, I only had two glasses to drink..It's getting really hot in here, this is the last time you talk me into drinking your alcohol." Shawn chuckled.
Lassiter sighed. "Sorry. I wanted to stop you before you ate those candies."
"Hm?" Shawn gazed into Lassiter's eyes, half-lidded.
"I wanted to explain that the candies were a gag gift. A friend got them from some weird sex shop and mailed them to me. When the package arrived with a note today, I meant to throw them out but didn't get around to it."
'Oh.' thought Shawn. He wasn't really paying much attention at this point but he clearly heard the word sex. He grew hotter and he could feel the erection tenting in his pants. All he wanted was to let it free and Lassiter holding him tightly didn't help.
"I...have t' go nyao..." Shawn slurred his words.
"Spencer, I don't really think you're in any shape to leave. You're going to get jumped."
"Oh, don't worry Lasshie; I left my wallet at home. I just broughth enough cash to buy two bottlesh, I'm s'all empty!"
"Not that kind of jumped." Lassiter sighed. He knew Shawn was aroused, and he wanted to take advantage of that. But, with genuine concern for Shawn he quickly brushed off that thought. "At least take a couple hours to rest, Spencer. Can you walk?"
Shawn's head was a scrambled egg. He couldn't think. He clutched Lassiter's shirt and it felt warm between his fingers. He shook his head slowly, his whole body sensitive and trembling. Shawn heard Lassiter sigh once more. He then felt like he was being lifted up. Lassiter carried him bridal style and walked back towards the living room doing his best not to bump into any walls or furniture. Shawn snuggled into his chest. Lassiter scent comforted him.
"Let me go get some blankets." Lassiter turned and left Shawn on the sofa. Shawn clutched his own chest in heart aching pain. He grew hotter by the minute and he had no way of relieving himself. His emotions ran high and his insecurities added to the sting. He was with Lassiter, and he embarrassed himself in front of his long time crush. A moment later, Lassiter came back with a sheet of fleece blanket. He walked over to Shawn to cover the writhing, slender body. He was just about to leave when Shawn reached up to grab the back of Lassiter's shirt, stopping him. Lassiter turned around and saw that Shawn avoided eye contact, trembling in the blanket he clutched tightly. Shawn looked stunning with his flushed face and sensitive body, tempting enough to get a taste.
"Please stay, I'm scared..." it was a foreign feeling to Shawn, his breathing grew rapid and his heart pounded out of his chest. He didn't know what he was feeling besides the growing arousal and he was afraid he'll fall ill.
"I'll be right back." Lassiter said softly as he gently pulled on his shirt to enter the kitchen and returned with two glasses. He was sipping a glass of whiskey while he handed a glass of water to Shawn. Shawn sat up and took a mouthful of water, hoping it would relieve some pain in his body. Lassiter plopped down next to Shawn as far as he could to give him some laying room. He just sipped his drink quietly. Shawn gazed at the older man, heart beating hard enough the whole world would be able to hear. Shawn took a minute to gather his scrambled thoughts and with all his courage and a strong intake of breath, he laid his head in Lassiter's lap. He stiffened, but Shawn felt him relax the next minute.
"Sorry…" Shawn whispered.
Lassiter gently stroked his head. Shawn closed his eyes. What seemed comforting now, he knew the next morning would be awkward. He knew Lassiter would hate him for collapsing in his house, and staying over for the night. He felt stupid that he overstayed his welcome when they barely hung out outside of work, solving cases. He regretted every decision he made tonight, to stay and have a drink with his co-worker detective Carlton Lassiter.
"For what?" Lassiter stopped his hands. He could clearly make out the distraught side profile of Shawn.
"For imposing..." Shawn sniffled.
Shawn heard the soft 'clink' of the glass. Lassiter set the drink aside on the closer end table. Lassiter shifted a little.
"You can thank me again later." Lassiter chuckled as he resumed stroking Shawn's head, comforting as he could be.
Shawn thought about it for a moment. He felt the sensation intensifying yet again. He knew it wasn't going away and he knew that if he wanted to do what he longed for, it was now. The combination of alcohol and the aphrodisiac candies helped him act. In one motion, Shawn sat up slowly and swung his legs over Lassiter's lap. He tightly clutched onto the blankets over his shoulders and went for a kiss. Shawn closed his eyes. The contact relieved him slightly of the pang in his chest. He breathed out through his nose, sighing. He could feel Lassiter stiffen again and Shawn prepared himself to be pushed away by Lassiter in disgust. He felt Lassiter's hand on his shoulder. Then he felt the pair of hands move onto his back, pulling him closer to Lassiter and encouraging him to continue. Lassiter returned the kiss passionately, prying open Shawn's mouth with his tongue. Shawn moaned as Lassiter flicked his tongue inside his mouth. Shawn could taste the whiskey in Lassiter's mouth, but it wasn't unpleasant. Shawn moved his hands to Lassiter's chest, looking to steady himself as Lassiter forcefully brought him closer. Shawn could feel his erection against Lassiter's own erection. He longed for friction and began grinding against Lassiter's crotch.
"Ngh...Lassie..." Shawn managed to whisper between the kisses and moans...
-CONTINUED IN AO3-
...The two lovers continued making love throughout the rest of the night and most of the next day.